Well-connected

I'm back! With a whole new computer and, at last, something to do instead of wandering around kicking stuff.

The old fashioned method of prostaglandin placement was achieved this morning, hopefully with some positive side efects. In addition to the obvious ones of course. Darling.

I got nothin' else.

If anyone has a spare crochet hook, I'm willing to try a do-it-yourself amniotomy. Cat? Bugsy?

Still Roasting

Gotta love public computers.

I had an appointment at the hospital this morning for a CTG. Spudly's heartrate is fine and dandy, and he's too damn happy where he is. Always willing to get my kit off for doctors, I asked for another internal to check my dilation, and there's been a little progress since Monday, but not much. The cervix is soft but is still posterior so its not yet "ripe". I had another stretch and sweep done, which an hour later seems to have brought on some kind of contraction thingy...

We shall see how that progresses.

Thanks for all the assvice. Raspberry Leaf tea kinda tastes like nothing. Dates are waaaay to sweet for me to be able to eat enough to do any good. I had a nice hot curry for dinner. I am NOT drinking castor oil - how disgusting! I might consider having sex if nothing has happened by the weekend, but I was kinda hoping to avoid going back to the whole "sex because you have to" thing.

Our answering machine is now on permanently. Mostly because we got sick of damn telemarketers ringing from India asking if we want to change our phone company. Not that there haven't been numerous "Well, what's happening?" phone calls too. What's happening? I'm getting sick of the damn phone ringing, that's what's happening.

I've put the Minx in charge of notifying y'all, on account of Manuela leaving the country and not being anywhere near a computer.

Stay tuned. Sooner or later, this Spud will be well and truly ready to come out of the oven.

Upstaged on my own blog!

Yes, its true. Our computer is absolutely positively one hundred percent d.e.a.d. So here I am, possibly in labour as I type, at the local library. Hope I dont get amniotic fluid all over their nice chairs...

The stretch and sweep yesterday was WEIRD. I mean...really...a wanding is bad enough, but having some strange chick's gelled-up finger shoved WELL up your cervix and twizzling round in there is just a bizarre experience I could do without. It was uncomfortable rather than painful, but mostly just plain weird.

The amniotic fluid level has decreased, and the placenta has started to calicfy, so despite my protestations and pleading to be allowed ot go two weeks past due, the Boffins insisted on no more than 8 days. Thus, we have a booking for Tuesday April 4 at 3pm to have even more gel placed on my cervix to get the whole shebang going. But 1cm dilated is a start, so lets hope my cervix keeps doing its thing and we have some Spudly action this week.

Given my desire this morning to scrub not only the saucepan lids but the saucepan bases as well...until they SHONE...I suspect that perhaps I wont need the induction after all. We have Raspberry Leaf Tea, pitted dates (naturally high in oxytocin, apparently) and I shall consume both with abandon. I will also follow Lala's advice and try evening primrose oil up my twat. In the meantime, the waiting is torture.

So...looks like there's a baby on the way. How the hell did that happen?

Unless we can get another magical machine that will allow me to communicate with all you internets, any further updates will come via that Slurry who thinks she's a minx now. Pshaw! She WISHES.

letting the minx run free in her blogosphere...

yes, hi, this is jules, aka jet x, aka the minx, and perhaps Doolie and slurry as well... but most of all Julie with a capital J for not smoking for over three weeks hooray!!!

he sparklicious pandamonius one has asked me to advise this blogosphere that she is 1 centimetre dilated and that she had a stretch n sweep (is that something like sooty and sweep - Ed.) and check on amnio fluid. She is booked in for an induce-monteriffic next tuesday if zee spudly one is not here by then.

so there you have it funsters... sharons computer is dead and she can't talk to you any more, so you'll just have to put up with my witty rep-art-e-e in the interim.

You can find a link to me around here somewhere... i won't use this space to plug the fact that i like boys or that i bought a new richard easton cd....

adios.
xJ

I'm confused

At this point, I admit its not hard to confuse me, but why does my countdown ticker tell me that there is only one day to go when Spud isnt due until Monday? By my reckoning that's two days.

*scratches head*

So to clarify, EDD is Monday the 27th.

Not that this makes any difference to anything.

Went to the geepee yesterday and got a lovely box of anitbiotics to get rid of this lurgie. I figured it was time to knock it on the head when after 5 days I still had a fever that was now going up. Still feel shite, but less shite.

Of course, now I run the rick of passing on thrush to His Spudliness. Nice.

Must send Monkey Boy out to buy some yoghurt. And possibly some eclairs.

Note to self: must not confuse the two.

Place Your Bets

We're starting a book on when Spudly will turn up.

In order to facilitate this, I have started a new Poll, over there ------------>

Well, over there and down.

Thanks for all your votes in the previous Poll. I have taken the results under advisement, and am currently amassing a cache of weaponry.

Send nail file hidden in a chocolate eclair.

Rassafrassat

Another day, another wanding.

The antenatal clinic wanted yet another ultrasound to check the position of the placenta. Today it was 3.8cm from the cervix. I doubt this will make any difference at all to the boffins who stand at the doors of the Birth Centre and say "beyond here there be cool stuff you're not allowed to have" but at least I can put my own mind at ease about c-sections and such.

The cervix, however, is doing nothing. NOTHING. Not shortened. Not effaced. Most certainly has never even heard about the concept of dilation.

He's never coming out.

And why would he, since his mother is now SICK with a fever and sore throat and sore ears and cant talk. Kick-ass timing.

So we sit. And we wait. Coz we've DONE everything else there is to do already. I'll moan quite a bit.

We cant even do the deed to speed things up (like that's something I want to do. Yeh. Uh-huh.) because we've been FORBIDDEN on account of the possibility of bleeding.

I'm sure he's already started putting up posters of The Cure and a sign on the door warning of biological hazards within.

Send chicken soup, and an Eviction Notice.

How Exciting!

Over there at Lala Land, there's been much cleaning, bitching and contracting going on.

By now its probably all over, bar the emptying the birthing pool.

She must be the only woman on the planet to give birth on her actual due date. Bitch.

Drink Your Way To a Better Baby

Ultrasound #376 this afternoon elicited the following pertinent facts:

On account of my decision to drink my own weight in water in order to increase the amniotic fluid levels, the fluid index went up from 7.7 to 12.5, which is above the cutoff for normal.

Spudly says "thanks very much mum for drinking all that water, it sure does give me a lot more room to move around in. Being 8lb7oz doesnt give one a great deal of room to start with y'know."

Yes, that's right 8lbs 7oz.

His legs are long like mine, measuring at 42 weeks. His stomach measures 41 weeks and his head measured almost 39. His cheeks are gloriously chubby, his lips luscious (he was having a drink at the time) and we could see his eyelashes. EYELASHES! Takes after his dad in that department.

He's gonna be tall and spunky but he needs to cut down on the chocolate eclairs. Damn.

Look Over There

On account of the whole "ripening cervix" thing, I thought it behooved me to make arrangements as to alerting the blogosphere of Spudly's arrival.

I have bestowed this responsibility on that weird-ass Canadadian wench with the shoe fetish. Keep checking her blog if you dont hear from me coz she'll be the one that gets the phone call at 4am, hopefully waking her from her peaceful slumber.

Fuckity Fuckity Fuck

Not only am I not 5cm dilated, I am also not allowed back in the Birth Centre.

We ended up spending all day at the hospital today. Depsite this radical concept called an APPOINTMENT, we were kept waiting for over an hour before we got to see anyone. Dont they realise how bloody uncomfortable - nay, impossible - it is for a woman at 38weeks to sit for that long on their stupid chairs?

Then the ultrasound from last week showed that my Amniotic Fluid Index was low. I didnt even know there was such a thing until today. And by low, I mean way low. 95% of babies have a higher amount of fluid to play in than Spudly, apparently. AND even though the amount of placenta that is 3cm from the cervical opening is only a sliver, I'm still considered at risk of haemorrhaging. So after a second opinion consult with the Big Cheese, I have been forbidden to use the Low Risk Birth Centre. There was also talk of perhaps needing to be induced early on account of the amniotic fluid issue.

I had an internal exam done that showed that the cervix is ripening, which is good because I look terrible in green. Despite what the ultrasound report said about his head abutting the cervix, his head is not fully engaged. In fact its less engaged than last visit. The Big Cheese dude had a pummell of my belly and declared I'm having a large baby. Well duh. I think we knew that! Since I'm measuring a fundal height of 41cm, guesstimates are at over 4kg (8.8lbs).

I was then sent off for a CTG to check that Spudly was not distressed at all. He's not. He was declared a very healthy happy baby. A healthy happy baby that is very BIG and likes to move an awful lot in not very much space.

I have to have another ultrasound on Thursday to assess his growth and recheck the amniotic fluid volume, and my next clinic appointment is next Tuesday. They want to keep a close eye on me.

My hopes of an interference-free birth are going out the window, with talks of IV and induction and no choice in the use of Syntocinon in the third stage, and greater likelihood of caesarian.

I've decided I will take Lioness's advice of crossing my legs and waving a muppet toy over my head. Since Spud is so happy he can stay where he is.

Not YET You Dont!

Despite Lala's announcement of imminent Enspudification, things are not progressing quite so fast as they appeared yesterday.

I did have a bit of browny discoloured stuff. Saturday night and Sunday morning there were a fair number of contractions, but I reckon they were still just Braxton-Hicks. They do get more painful when I walk around though.... Monkey Boy is obsessively checking my desire to clean power points. I dont think it's a valid sign in my case - I've been doing that shit for months.

I have an appointment first thing tomorrow morning, at which I am hoping the will say "Go back to the Birth Centre. Oh, and you're 5cm dilated."

That'd be sweet.

Do di do di do

Since I am now officially The Domestic Goddess On Holidays (or "honey, I cant get out of the chair anymore") I find myself having to distract myself from all the stuff that still needs to be done by staying on line while my darling Monkey Boy is out battling 37 degree heat to pick up our new screen door. Thus, here's a rambling post about not very much.

I'm very excited about our new screen door. We havent had one in about 3 years. Now that Muffin (of "oooh, I think I'll piss off for 6 months and not tell anyone where I'm going" fame) is home and grounded forever, we cant have the back door open or she will high-tail it. As of this weekend, we can have the kitchen door open, no flies in the house and no Muffin escaping.

We also made another very exciting purchase a week ago: our first proper sofa. It wasnt that awful share-housing make-do crap kinda sofa that we've all had at one point in our lives. It's a real, solid, stylish, comfortable, proper adult-type sofa. With a fold out bed. I feel so grown up. Dont worry - it'll pass.

Muffin's sister, Squirmy, despite being on a maximum dose of oestrogen to calm her the fuck down, is STILL spraying around the house. A couple of weeks ago she sprayed me. ME! Last night she sprayed directly onto a power point that was turned on. Our animals are so fucked up. Lioness, maybe you have some ideas? What on earth are we going to do to a little human if we cant get it right with kitties?

Am having Braxton-Hicks again today. At least, I think they're Braxton-Hicks. I have been reassured that full engagement of the head does not predict anything about when you will go into labour, apart from the fact that you will at some point. Not sure I want to now. I woke up this morning thinking "Nope. Dont want a baby. Cats are fine. Can I change my mind? Cant do this. Am running away from home now."

I thought that wasnt supposed to happen until the transition stage?

What Is That Crunching Sound??

The much-anticipated ultrasound to check on the recalcitrant placenta happened this morning. It turned into a rather unexpected (and I must say most uncomfortable) date with dildocam on account of not being able to move Spudly's head out of the way. Even with the camera stuck up there they still couldnt see much, but it appears that the main body of the placenta is well away from the cervical os, and there may be a tiiiny sliver of placenta about 3cm from the opening , but its really hard to tell with a huge scone pressing on the cervix.

So far 3 out of 3 non medically trained women think this means he's fully engaged.

What I want to know is if this means labour is imminent or if I can still expect another two weeks of waddling around and trying to get out of my own way? Should I be washing out my peejays tonight and packing the snack bag? Dr Google does not seem to want to give me answers to these vital questions. Why choose NOW to be the silent brooding type, huh???

It's dawned on me over the course of the day that I'm not actually ready for this. Hmmm....

Casa del Spud

Finally, some piccies of Spudly's room.


Somewhat of a difference from
this...

and this...

To this...


I made the nappy stacker hanging on the wall. A girlfriend made the angel bear hanging over the change table for me years ago. The three bears on the dresser are (l-r) my first bear, Monkey Boy's first bear and Spudly's first bear.

I also made the purple fake fur loveheart cushion for our wedding. It carried our rings. Awwwww.

The books are all mine from my childhood. I wonder if Spud will enjoy Anne of Green Gables and Trixie Belden?

I wanted to make curtains. After wandering around the fabric store for aaaages, I finally came across this fabulous organza with metallic silver stars embroidered on it...

which happened to tie in quite nicely with the silver star lampshade we already had in our bedroom...

I made those ceiling drapes too, by the way.

And thus, we have a theme:

It's so perdy. The shade makes stars on the walls too. I wonder if Spud would mind if we trade bedrooms?


So to re-cap; I made the nappy stacker, I made the curtains, I made the ceiling drapes, I helped put in the skirting boards and architraves (I painted them first), I painted the walls and the ceiling, I painted the door, I painted the ceiling, and I started sanding the floor but had the belt sander confiscated.

Actually, I'm quite tired.

You Pays Your Money, You Takes Your Chances

I hate doctors.

You scoff, thinking "but doctors are trained professionals and know far more than you do, O Litttle Panda."

What, you dont think that? You're all such cynical bitches.

My wonderful and superb GP decided to give up her practice (I guess she figured she knew what she was doing and didnt need to practice anymore) towards the end of last year. Since then I have been GP-less. So when I needed a new prescription for my Panda-Not-Be-Psycho pills (aka Lovan/Prozac) I figured I may as well just go to the local country-town doctor whom I havent seen for about 18 months.

I knew there was a reason I stopped going to him.

Doc: "Who put you on Lovan?"

Me: My GP.

Doc: "They know at the hospital you're still taking Lovan?"

Me: Yes.

Doc: "And they're okay with this."

Me: Yes.

Doc: "They were fine with you taking it all through the pregnancy?"

Me: Yes..

Doc: "Why didnt you stop taking it when you knew you were pregnant?"

Me: Because I have an anxiety disorder caused by hormonal fluctuations and when I am experienceing hormonal shifts I am quite capable of harming either myself or someone else."

Doc: "Well, during pregnancy hormones generally settle down"

Me: Not in my case they havent.

Doc: "You need to talk to someone at the hospital about this and see what they have to say about you breastfeeding while on it. You may have to either not breastfeed or stop taking the Lovan."

Me: Why?

GP looks up Lovan in the MIMS, where it says all sorts of nasty things that will happen to your baby should you breastfeed whilst taking the drug. Says breastfeeding should not be considered while taking Lovan.

End of consultation. I go home feeling now more anxious about the drug that is supposed to stop me feeling anxious, and start feeling the creeping guilt about what I may have done to Spudly for having taken it throughout the pregnancy, albeit under medical guidance.

Last night I consulted the Doctor Who Is Always In, and did a rather thorough search of research papers on the effects of Lovan during pregnancy and breastfeeding. Despite what the MIMS had to say, there is NO data that suggests that breastfeeding should not be attempted while taking Lovan. In fact, the conclusions drawn re Lovan in breastmilk all state that the amount in milk is so small as to make it a laughable idea that it could be worse than the mother taking it during pregnancy.

There is NO data that shows any teratogenesis in the fetus when taken during the first trimester. There is some data which suggests that in a small number of babies there may be withdrawal symptoms for the first week of life if Lovan is taken in the third trimester, but these are by no means dangerous - crying, diarrhea, general crabbiness, etc. There is the suggestion that infants should be monitored closely for the first 48 hours for any signs of withdrawal symptoms, mainly minor respiratory distress.

Furthermore, from a 7 year study there is NO data to show that there are any long term developmental issues such as neurological damage, lowered IQ etc from the mother having taken Lovan either during pregnancy or breastfeeding.

But look up the effects of a mother who needs medication during pregnancy or post-partum and stops taking the medication, and what you find is a higher incidence of miscarriage, long-term neurological and developmental problems in the child, low birthweight, intra-uterine growth retardation, suicidal tendencies, hypertension and pre-eclampsia, higher incidence of post-natal depression, inability to care for the infant and failure in the infant to reach developmental milestones.

My anxiety and guilt disappeared pretty quickly. It was replaced by anger.

We know that not all GPs can be up-to-speed with the latest research on the effects of every drug on the market. But if all that doctors are relying on is what is reported in the MIMS, how many women are badgered encouraged to either stop their medication or not breastfeed their babies on the basis of false information that is undoubtedly provided by the drug company who doesnt want to get their asses sued? To me it seems it's just another way in which women can be made to feel guilty about their needs and choices.

Monkey Boy and I made our decision last night. There will be none of this crazy "stop taking the medication that keeps you sane" bizzo going on around here. There will also be none of this "dont breastfeed your baby, it's too dangerous crap" either. I'll discuss the issue with the hospital at our next appointment and let them know that I have done my research, am aware of the possibility that there may be some withdrawal symptoms and am prepared for the potential need for monitoring of Spudly for a couple of days.

Personally, I think doing anything else would be grossly irresponsible on my part. Spud does not need a mother who cant look after him and who wants to harm anyone who gets in the way. Nor should he be denied the enormous benefits of breastfeeding because a bunch of drug company lawyers are a little nervous about the one woman in millions that wants to take them to the cleaners.

Fully Cooked

Today Spudly is officially fully cooked and ready to come out of the roasting tin. Somehow I think he feels he needs to be a bit crispier....

So here's an updated belly picture, taken at 36 weeks. I am actually bigger now.



We went and had some 3D ultrasound piccies done this week too. There's only one clinic in this state that does them and its purely for "bonding", so naturally you pay through the nose. It was soooo worth it. He looks like a little person rather than some transparent shadowy alien type creature.



He looks like Monkey Boy when he's asleep and scowls like me.

In addition, he is also a circus freak. How else can you explain the ability to scratch his nose with his big toe?



My hospital bags are almost ready. Spudly's head was 3/5 past the pelvic brim a week ago, and the Braxton-Hickses are far more regular and insistent of my attention now. It would also appear that the placenta is (touch wood) out of the way. Is that crunching I hear???

Ooooh...holy crap its all Getting A Bit Real.

Just a thought...

	Welcome to week 37 of your pregnancy.
	At the end of this week your baby will reach full term and be considered fully developed for independent life.

Blackmores do seem a little overly-confident about Spudly's development, methinks. But y'know, if he wants to move out of home already, that's fine, but while he's living under my roof he'll live by my rules. And that means NO MORE BLOODY KICKING!!!